


The Amazing Spiderson

by scottmchungup



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I didn't know the plot until like ch.3, Iron Dad, New tags, Peter Parker??? getting the family he deserves??? In THIS economy??, Peter parker needs a break, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark needs a drink, and a whole lotta others, but we been knew that, more likely than you'd think!, others to be added l8r h8rs, so this fic is a real messy bitch(TM), spider son, we gettin the band back together!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:01:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmchungup/pseuds/scottmchungup
Summary: Thanos is defeated, and Peter & Tony are reunited. But with their line of work, nothing can ever stay perfect for too long. With new accords, new images, and new problems, Peter starts to realize there's more to being a superhero than the good parts.(Heavy on the Iron Dad/Spider Son but with regular cameos from our Avenging faves)





	1. Don't call it a comeback

Heaven was always a bit of a stretch for Peter Parker. I mean sure, he was no murderous villain but if that was the sole criteria for denial into the pearly white gates then heaven must be a pretty crowded affair. Peter talked back, he did things he shouldn’t, and how long has he been lying to his family and friends about where he goes on Friday nights? The point here is that he was no saint. But even he had to really evaluate his past if he was already in hell. 

His eyes opened slower than normal, and his joints felt odd and stiff. When enough sand had moved from his direct eyesight he saw a barren wasteland of tan, and for all the nothingness in front of him, he felt the same inside. He would have called it an out of body experience if he wasn’t so strangely aware of all of his limbs, and for some reason he had never experienced, he was having trouble controlling them. He coughed, and the sound got stuck in his throat as nothing but a swirling mess of more dust came out. Hell was a whole lot different than its representation on Earth. 

Slowly he began to regain motion. First his hands planted themselves on either side into the rough terrain beneath him and then at a speed that rivaled that of a turtle, his legs followed suit until eventually he was actually standing. This proved more of an inconvenience than anything as he brought a shaky hand to his head and tried to figure out what exactly was making his brain pound like this. Weren’t you supposed to leave your physical form when you die? 

Behind him he heard a groan, and the sound of a large body hitting the hard dust at his feet. “Jesus.” He heard someone mutter--- along with a few other choice words Peter choose not to repeat. Peter almost got whiplash with how hard he turned to stare and was both surprised and confused at the revelation of not being alone. Was hell personalized? Because now that he found his bearings this place looked a whole lot like Titan, just without the impending sense of doom. The one who spoke, the large one with the mask, and the name that sounded like the rejected idea for a Star Wars character pushed himself to a sitting position, half supported by the shell of what once must have been a ship but could more accurately be described as rubble. “Usually when I’m hungover I know what I did to deserve it.” Mr. Lord voiced, rubbing his eyes just as Peter had done moments ago. 

So he wasn’t dead. He fiddled with his fingers as a way to secure that idea, and was surprised to find that they reacted to his internal command. He wasn’t dead! This was Titan, and although it wasn’t on Peter’s Top Ten Places to Vacation list, he still had to revel in the fact that he was here! He didn’t die, and Tony didn’t------

Tony. He realized in the same thought. There were four bodies surrounding Peter now; and neither Tony nor the blue lady who had crashed her ship into Thanos was in sight. 

“How long has it been?” Doctor Strange questioned, fiddling with his own fingers ever so slightly. That’s right. They had literally disintegrated into ash. His memory was still fuzzy on the logistics of it but now that time was in question he could definitely remember that Tony and Blue were the only ones to remain intact when the rapture came. They probably left moments after. 

“Oh let me just check my magic watch that counts all the days we didn’t exist for.” Mr. Lord responded, moving to lean his head back against the wrecked ship, and holding his side as if they had gotten out of battle mere minutes ago. He coughed, and a tornado of beige sand came out that unsettled Peter to no odds. What the hell happened to them?

Doctor Strange merely gave that look that until recently Peter had thought was reserved for Tony. A mix of ‘one day your own stupidity will kill you’ and ‘or I will’. But instead of retaliating, Strange just checked his powers with a wave of his mystical hands. They glowed orange, and Strange just nodded as if to say ‘just as I expected.’ 

“They did it.” He mused, so quietly that even Peter’s spidey senses had a hard time picking it up. He didn’t really blame his sixth sense for lying dormant right now, though… he had just died. Even now his body didn’t feel like his own, and he was still getting used to the constant thudding in his chest that signified life. Was he really alive? Did he disappear here days, months, maybe even years ago? He pinched himself----- as cliché as it sounded just to be sure he could feel pain, and when he felt the small prick on the palm of his hand he breathed a sigh of relief. They really did it. He was alive.

“I did it.” The burly blue one said, “I have defeated Thanos!”

Everyone took a second to stare, unsure of what could possibly be said now. They all just kind of tacitly agreed to pretend that didn’t happen. 

“Was it the Avengers?” Peter asked---- knowing the answer full well. 

“What was left of them.” Strange responded. He took one look around at the people surrounding him now and with one piqued eyebrow asked if everyone was okay. Groans ensured, but he continued on regardless. “The time stone is unprotected. I assume you Guardians have a ship that can get you back to Earth?” 

“I--- you’re leaving?” Peter asked, visibly shaken by the idea of staying on this pseudo Tattoine alone. 

“Unless you’d like to traverse several dimensions?” 

Peter thought back to the fact that he had literally just reemerged in this one. Reality, as much of a bore as it could be, was just fine with him for now. He shook his head.

“That’s what I thought.” Doctor Strange said, waving his hands as a shimmering yellow portal appeared. He already had one leg in when he thought of something he’d forgotten. “----Give Tony a call. When you get the chance.” And with that he was gone. 

His disappearance acted as some sort of cue for the other’s to take charge of the situation. The one that looked like a blue WWE superstar let out a laugh that reminded Peter distinctly of a macho evil scientist as he proclaimed over and over again that Thanos met his maker. Whereas the female continued to revel in the loss of gravity much as she had done when they first arrived on Titan. Quill just closed his eyes and sat inhumanly still for a few minutes. 

Peter himself was still testing out his motor functions, and wondering how in the hell he was supposed to get from here to Earth. He doubted Uber would pick him up.

After the novelty of life began to wear off, a slight chill entered the atmosphere. 

“Peter!” The one with the antennae’s called, much to Parker’s surprise. Despite it being the least of his problems right now, he was still vaguely uneasy with the fact that these people knew his secret identity. Had he accidentally let slip? Had they been watching him? Had Tony called him by his first name instead of kid for the first time in recorded history?

Before Peter could voice his concerns, Mr. Lord responded, with a “yeah?” that sounded like something between a grunt and a sigh. His side was definitely messing with him. 

“The temperature is dropping, I don’t think Titan is inhabitable at night.” She continued, unfazed by the fact that Mr. Lord responded to “peter”. That was either because a) they had somehow planned an elaborate prank to mess with Peter Parker while, or possibly after they were disintegrating, or b) even millions of light years from Earth ‘Peter’ was still a very common name. His clever inductive reasoning skills choose option B. 

“Makes sense. Come back from the dead only to die again…” He took a second to breath, “Any chance either of you still have the keys to the Milano?” 

“No.”

“Your spaceship has keys?” Peter found himself asking. It seemed silly that technology so advanced could be so archaic. 

“Not functional ones, but it’s got a really cool bottle opener key chain I’d like to keep.” Older Peter responded, pushing himself up from the ground in a heavy feat of unsettling motion. “I take it you’re hitching a ride with the guardians, kid?” 

“If that’s not too much. I mean I could---” He was going to say find another way home. He really didn’t want to be a burden to these people but at the same time he’d seen about as much of Titan as he’d ever like to see.   
“Nah, I think----“ Quill gave a look at his friends behind him, that were desperately trying to figure out how standing worked. “I think we’re headed there anyway.”

 

It took probably about an hour to first, find the ‘Milano’, second get it to start after having gathered dust for X amount of time (Peter could, if he wanted to, deduce how long it had been but frankly he’d really rather not.) and lastly figure out which way exactly Terra was. But in due time, they were departing the planet of ash and Peter thought it not a minute too soon. Relatively close to when they had first departed the planet a blue flickering holographic message appeared on the screen in front of the Captain’s chair and a small, sentient Raccoon was cursing loudly, vividly, and explicitly about how he wanted to get off this (censored) planet called Earth. There was a tree next to him that desperately wanted everyone to know that “he is Groot.” And after the Guardians had their very confusing arguing match that had the vague under-tones of missing one another a familiar name was brought up: Thor. Thor was an Avenger, and the Avengers (probably) were the ones who saved the Universe, and Tony Stark was most definitely at the front of that charge. 

“Do you know Tony Stark?” Peter asked desperately, flashing back to Doctor Strange’s parting words to notify Tony of his return. 

The raccoon gave a huff and an eye-roll. Oh yeah, he knew Tony. “The douche bag in the suit?”

Peter hated himself for answering “yes” but he just wanted to get to the part about knowing where Tony was and how he could talk to him. 

“Our parties split up--- divide and conquer and all that. I think he was on the team that found Thanos. Didn’t leave a number though, sorry kid.” And peter’s heart dropped. Was Tony not as desperate to see Peter as he was? Perhaps Peter’s groveling on Titan had been too much, and the international billionaire had officially felt like his duty was done. Maybe he didn’t even have a reason, just decided that after all of this he needed a break from the kid who only seemed to bring problems. 

No. He had to believe that Tony had a plan. Iron Man always had a plan, and now, when hope was just starting to break the horizon, was not the time to question Tony Stark. He would find Peter, it wasn’t a question of if, but rather when. 

The transmission call ended, and Drax, Mantis, and Quill (he knew their names now!) wandered off to different quadrants of the ship. The ship itself was huge; much nicer, and more personalized than the donut Peter, Tony, and Strange crashed and Peter, while offered the room that belonged to the raccoon currently on Earth, found himself spending most of his time in the kitchen. 

Apparently dying worked up an appetite. Peter was offered everything that was still edible (even if only partly) and he took that offer graciously. Maybe it was the way his hands still shook that concerned him, or perhaps the way that no matter what he ate his stomach still felt empty but he could not shake the memory of de-materializing for more than a few minutes. He’d try to focus on May, or Ned, or MJ, or anybody back home and every time he did he could only wonder if they suffered the same fate as he. 

He had just died. And not only that; because he hadn’t been able to get that damned gauntlet off in time countless others had died too. Families, friends, the guardians and millions of others all because Peter Parker wasn’t strong enough. He keeps on replaying that moment in his mind and just thinking if he had tried harder-----

“Hey, kid.” Quill walked in then. The nickname twisted his heart in a weird way, but apparently his forehead read ‘kid’ as that was now his official term used by almost everybody voting age and above. They’d been at warp for probably about three Earth hours now (although time was hard to tell with no sun) and this was the first Peter had seen from Quill since boarding. He didn’t look as he did on Titan. And that was neither a diss nor a compliment. 

On Titan he looked like a mad man---- one who did not fear death and carried a vengeance as his primary fuel. Now however he just looked sunken. Like his entire body was contracting in on itself, or he had caught whatever the term for the flu was in space. A part of it had to be the fact that they lost the initial fight, but nobody else seemed to pale as much as he had. It had to be about that girl he was fighting for, or perhaps his lost friends on Earth and either way Peter knew that the best way to deal with that right now was head on.

“Mr. Quill…” He started, and Peter’s face soured. 

“Call me Peter, Peter. I literally disintegrated in front of you, I think we’re there now.” 

“Mr. Peter…” Parker started again, and despite Quill’s laugh continued on anyway. “Who was Gamora?” He only remembers the name because “Where is Gamora?” was the question directed at him while at gun point. It’s the kind of thing that sticks with you even after the adrenaline wears off. “You don’t have to tell me I just----- I know it helps when I talk about it and…. I guess that’s more of a preference thing, but I just… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have even ask----“

“No it’s fine.” His rambling was cut off promptly. 

“Gamora was family.” Quill answered finally. He had turned and positioned himself so that his face was only half visible, and even still Peter Parker could still see the pain etched on it. “We met a couple years back when… she tried to kill me when I tried to sell an infinity stone for a couple thousand credits and we ended up breaking out of the universe’s most protected prison.” He said it all like he was describing a typical Tuesday night, and Peter genuinely could not tell whether or not he was joking. 

“I realized it too late but… I love her.” He said simply, and Peter thought it better than to correct his use of tenses. He still uses present tense when talking about Uncle Ben, or his parents. 

Peter had never really played this role before. The comforter instead of the one who needs comforting. It was weird, and as his hand touched down upon Quill’s shoulder he had to look into his wide array of traumas for guidance. “Love doesn’t end at death.” Peter said, mimicking the words a heartbroken Aunt May had told him after Ben’s funeral a few years back. It felt weird coming out of his mouth now, and he remembers the sinking feeling when he first heard it, but months down the line he’d think back to that and find peace. Maybe Quill would too. “And who knows, maybe the Universe will right itself again. Now that Thanos is gone…. Maybe there’s hope.”

Quill smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re pretty wise for being twelve.” He replied, using the back side of his hand to swipe at something on his cheek.

“I’m not twelve.”

Quill ignored that. “So, how do you plan on getting in touch with your dad?” 

“My dad?” How the hell did Peter Quill know Richard Parker? He hadn’t even----- oh. “Mr. Stark is not my dad.” 

Quill gave him a look. “Family isn’t blood.” 

Rather than protesting he let the thought simmer. How was he going to contact Mr. Stark? It would still take hours, maybe even days to get back to Earth without the high tech of Thanos’ ship, and Peter highly doubted he could wait that long to check in on Mr. Stark without going crazy. What if he was hurt? What if he was on his way to Titan and Peter would reach Earth only to realize he was just as far away from Tony as when he started? Or worse, what if Tony was….. 

He didn’t even want to think of that. 

“I don’t know… I mean it’s not like you have…” He let his sentence trail off as his brain worked on decoding its own messages. Wait. Karen had a StarkPhone programmed in, and if Quill could communicate with Rocket on Earth, then maybe Peter could use that signal. Maybe he could phone home! 

“The suit…” Was all he murmured, much to the confusion of Peter Quill. Parker pushed up from his seat hastily and all but ran towards where he last left his suit. 

“Thank you Mr. Peter!” He called, barely registering the “Alright, let’s go back to Mr. Lord” he responded with. His mind was on other things. 

If his mask was still on Titan then Peter knew the fates were playing a cruel trick on him, but with only minimal searching for the dust-caked wear, he found the mask and slipped it on giddily.   
“Karen!” He all but screamed as soon as the screen flickered on. 

“Mr. Parker, happy to see you back again.” She replied. 

“Connect me to Tony Stark!”

“You are not connected to a proper network, so you will not be received as your user. Your message will more than likely appear in Mr. Stark’s ‘junk’ file.” 

“Whatever, Karen, just connect me!” 

“As you wish.” 

And the ringing started. Beyond hope, or miracles, or fuck it even dumb luck Peter was praying that Tony Stark would pick up. Regardless of the fact he had no way of knowing it was Peter Parker calling, he had to pick up. He had to speak to him, hear his voice, explain where he was!

But with the final brrrrrring Peter knew his fate was sealed. 

“You know who this is.” A familiar voice said, followed by a beep. Honestly, Peter Parker didn’t even know Tony Stark had a voicemail, and now was the worst possible time to figure that out. 

“Mr. Stark!” peter started, feeling weirdly out of breath. “It’s your friendly neighborhood spider-man.”


	2. Earth to Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guardians, thor, and peter, oh my!

“Raiders of the Lost Ark.” 

“Yeah maybe if Temple of Doom was never invented.” 

“If Doom was never invented, then they’d have room for an actual good movie.” 

“Harrison Ford heard that, and now God will judge you for it.” 

Peter Quill and Peter Parker had been at this for hours. They took the normal route of getting to know somebody and completely flipped it. Before even knowing each other’s likes or dislikes they had nosedived straight into the personal stuff. Surprisingly that stuff was not half as controversial as their conversation now. Beforehand they had bonded over their irregular upbringing, childhood traumas, excessive flashes with death, etc. Quill lost his mom at a young age, Peter lost his parents. Quill was half god, and Peter was some degree spider. And while they were both adopted by someone known to their family, Peter Parker’s had been a bit more… continental. Their stories were not mirror images by any means, but it was nice to have someone who understood the heavy weight of being irregular. 

Moving on from the dense topics is where the rift started forming. It was all making sense as to why Star Lord thought “Footloose” was the best movie in history…. Because he has terrible taste. In fairness, his knowledge of cinema did take a sharp dive after like 1985, where movies like “The Matrix” or The Lord of The Rings trilogy would have surely changed his ranking----But seriously, who ranks “The Thing” over “The Shining?” Peter was starting to wonder if maybe he could find another way home. 

“Mikey, I like to think of myself as an educator, of sorts. Taking those without common sense under my wing.” He paused and mouthed ‘DRAX’ dramatically. “---So I’ll do you a solid. I have The Terminator on an old school VHS tape, and I will be your gracious guide into the realm of good movies.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest his definition of ‘good’, but Quill was quick to continue. “I know it’s scary… coming from such mediocrity to the world of the greats but you’ll thank me when you’re older.”

“We’re on a flying spaceship after the most historic battle in the Universe, and you want to watch a movie that can’t crack the top fifty of best movies?” 

“Call it training. We’ll start with the basics and work our way up.”

Peter laughed at that. The tensions were high then, but Peter really didn’t realize how much he liked Quill on Titan. He was self-assured, that one was obvious, but he was also insanely funny and while he used kid nicknames (Peter had some problems with calling him ‘Mikey’… that was the lamest goonie!) he really didn’t feel as though Quill treated him like a kid. Like someone younger, sure, but also like someone who could handle his own. It was refreshing after having his every step questioned as to whether he was old enough to ride the superhero ride. 

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to fit all this in one back-to-Earth trip.” Peter laughed. Although truthfully he wouldn’t mind skipping movies like Footloose. 

Quill didn’t laugh with Parker. Instead he got an unfocused glaze in his eye and his eyebrows scrunched as if in deep thought.

“What if…” He started, forming his words carefully. “---you stayed? Not forever of course, but I mean there’s a whole wide universe out there. We’ve got a room, and food, and all that essential stuff. This is probably what, your first time in Space?”

Peter nodded. He’d only ever been out of New York itself once, when Mr. Stark took him to Germany. And that hadn’t exactly been a ‘vacation’ kind of trip. 

“Exactly! There’s plenty of other planets, and plenty of time later in life to spend on Earth. Everybody will still be there when you get back. I could teach you how to pilot a real space ship. You know, see the stars, live a little. ” 

Peter was speechless, which was a rarity. On the one hand, he was being offered a once in a lifetime (if even so lucky) deal. Travel the universe with Star Lord and his gang. At first he thought he could see things like Saturn’s rings, or the moons of Jupiter----and then he realized that was barely scratching the surface. There were entire planets, and solar systems with people like Drax or Groot on them, and Peter could explore a whole new side of life. New customs, and food, and ships, and all the while traveling with some pretty cool people. And thus far, he had only been gone for what, like a month? He was sure the people back home could do without him for another. They’d still stop at Earth, and Peter could explain his reasoning with proper goodbyes and be back in thirty days having achieved the unimaginable. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t quite sure when he’d want to slide the mask back on anyway. This could be a nice getaway. 

On the other hand, he had missed everyone greatly. For him it had only been like two (ish) days away from home, but even still he felt the gap in his life like a missing limb. He missed May, and Ned, and hell, he even kind of missed school. Maybe it was normalcy he was longing or familiarity with the people around him, but he genuinely could not wait till they reached Earth. He especially missed Tony, but since he still hadn’t heard back from FRIDAY about Peter’s message he’d been trying to think less and less of Mr. Stark. What if he really did want nothing to do with Peter now? Maybe he wouldn’t care if Peter accepted the offer. 

“I---“ Peter started, abruptly cut off by three distinct beeps from the overhead. 

“That’s the system telling us we’re close.” Quill explained, stretching before getting up to head for the cockpit. He held a hand on the door out, and froze for a second too long to be normal. “You don’t have to answer now, just… think about it.” He said, moving so that he was now out of sight. “And think about your Indiana Jones rankings, I’m giving you a second chance.” 

 

 

From there, Earth was on the horizon in twenty minutes. Quill started playing some old school Rock that Peter vaguely knew the words to, and Peter experienced the weirdest sensation of breaking through the atmosphere to Electric Light Orchestra’s “Mr. Blue Sky”. It felt like a lifetime ago since he last saw the green of Earth, and an even longer time since civilization as he knew it. As he neared the ground, his heart rate was picking up speed with excitement and he couldn’t think of a way to calm it----or even if he wanted to. 

Rocket had given them coordinates to follow that took them far past the extents of Peter’s geographical knowledge. They clearly weren’t headed towards New York as skyscrapers became a thing of Peter’s past, and as they neared a large expanse of rock, Peter had mere moments to say his prayers before the expected collision------ only to be met, once again, with life. He really had to start trusting fate with the number of times he’d falsely run in with death. 

“Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Quill joked, and Parker had to physically remember to close his mouth after the initial shock. This place was beautiful! It was both innovative with towering buildings, and a clearly bustling hub while maintaining its natural evanescence surrounded by lush mountains. Life moved below them, and yet was unfazed by a flying saucer above. If Peter was a betting man, he would guess this to be Wakanda, the place the Blank Panther was from. Tony visited occasionally after the events in Germany, and he would always come back with some new idea for his suit in the back of his mind, the latest being nano-technology. The suit was impressive, but with Peter Parker getting a good look at its real birthplace, the suit was kind of a understatement to possible greatness. 

They parked the ship in one of the rolling plains outside what Peter would guess to be the city. There was an amphitheater of sorts that held a wide variety of people. People lounging outside, underneath the canopies, and others walking in and out entranced by conversation. Peter couldn’t see a single person alone in the wide sea of bodies, and quickly he understood with a sickening clarity that nobody wanted solitude after the week they’d had. 

Quill was the first to exit, followed by Drax, Mantis, and eventually Peter. Despite being noticeably smaller than others in his party (Drax), he couldn’t help but crane his neck to see as much of the crowd as he could. Both because Wakana was so ethereally beautiful and because it theoretically was where Tony Stark would be. Theoretically. 

Before the guardians could even make it to the entrance, they were recognized. 

“The return of the A-holes!” Rocket, or so Peter assumed (how many sentient raccoons were there anyway?) announced. He was walking casually towards the group, but his friend, Groot he would assume from the numerous times he’d proclaimed it, rushed forward and caught the Guardians in a tree limb hug. “I am Groot.” He said. 

“Yeah, yeah, you big mush ball.” Rocket said when he reached them. He crossed his arms, and rather than joining the hug just scowled at the embrace. Even Peter, who had known this guy for less than a minute could tell his pride was the only thing stopping him from hopping in. Luckily, Groot seemed to sense that as well. A single branch extended towards Rocket that he immediately accepted, and thus the Guardians were reunited. It was a touching moment. 

Peter was happy for them, he really was. He and Quill had gotten pretty personal on the ride back, and he knew how much these people meant to him, and it was clear Quill was happier now than ever. But watching this family reassemble only made him miss his own more. 

The thought vanished when a man who Peter could only assume as Thor entered the party next. Even if Peter had no prior information, if he had been living under a rock for the past sixteen years, he could still deduce the word ‘god’ just from looking at the man in front of him. He was a hulking mass of intimidating muscle, blonde, sun-kissed, cropped hair, and an objectively handsome face. Vaguely Peter remembers when Quill described Thor as ‘not that good looking.’ Yet another thing they’d have to agree to disagree on. 

“Morons!” Thor called gleefully. He greeted the guardians like friends despite his contradictory words and Peter spared a glance at Quill who was rolling his eyes so hard that Parker wasn’t sure if they’d ever return to normal. “You have made it back to Midgard!” Thor hugged the Guardians same as Groot, but something about his godly presence made it all the funnier. If Peter were to see him in battle, or hell even just on the street he’d probably be very acutely scared of this man. I mean, his bicep alone is bigger than Peter’s head! But right now, as his smile almost extended ear to ear Peter felt like he was watching the goofy big brother he’d never had, but immediately loved. 

“And you’ve brought a smaller moron!” Thor added when he finally saw Peter in the queue. Peter opened his mouth to respond----only to realize he didn’t know how to. It was becoming more and more evident that Thor had the wrong definition of moron. 

“P-Peter.” He said nervously, holding his hand out. Thor rejected the outstretched hand and instead went in for a hug just as he had with the others. It felt like being hugged by a warm transformer made entirely from muscle----but like, in a good way. 

“Peter!” Thor responded. Clapping a hand on his shoulder when they broke apart. “Welcome.”

“So what happened?” Quill asked in an unusually deep voice. Peter did a double take to see if maybe Quill had fallen suddenly ill or something, but other than the fact that he was puffing his chest out he seemed same as usual. 

“Thanos has perished!” Thor laughed then, and Peter could swear the ground rumbled with him.

“Yeah, we got that part. But how’d it happen?” 

“That is a long story that I shall share over the festivities tonight. It took a year but we have triumphed, reversing Thanos’ curse.” 

He’d like to blame it on his sluggish senses, but the reality of what Thor had just proclaimed hadn’t quite set in with Peter as it had with the others. 

“What the fuck?” Quill was quick to question, overshadowed by the “A year?” from Mantis, and “the fool!” from Drax. 

A year. It had been a full length year since Peter had left Earth. Since Peter had left life, even. 365 days, where Peter Parker just did not exist. A year where half the Universe simply did not exist, and a year till it would be whole again. What about the half that survived? Possibly people like May or Ned who Peter never got to say goodbye to, and spent the year assuming Peter would never come back. And Tony----- god, Tony who was stabbed before the snap, and watched as Peter fell had to fight for a year longer than his stamina probably wished. Peter had finally gotten over the initial shock of seeing the Norse god in person, and he didn’t mean to be rude, but Thor, Rocket, and Groot’s faces were not the ones he wanted to see right now. It had been a year since he’d been home. 

“Yes, a year. Did I get that correct? Three Hundred and Sixty Five of your human days is a year? I tend to confuse that with century. Captain Roger’s metallic brother was none too pleased.” Thor looked off in the distance as if he could see a memory there, and then shook his head as he continued to speak. “And where is your green friend, guardians?”

“Gamora, Thor. We practiced this.” Rocket interjected. Thor replied hastily with “Ah yes, Rabbit! Gamora.” And Groot, yet again made sure to announce “I am Groot.” 

“Groot’s right, if she’s looking for Nebula, that chick left already. You’d think after all the times I held back from killing her, it’d be worth some recognition but no--- when she arrived she didn’t say a damn word to us, and left a minute after.” 

Rocket crossed his arms and huffed, looking up at Quill where he should expectedly be replying with some tame explanation of why their friend wasn’t at the reunion party. 

Quill’s eyes never left the ground.

“Gamora is dead.” Drax answered, sadly. “Thanos traded her life for the soul stone’s.” 

A weight settled in the group as the news set in. Groot was brimming with tears. 

“I am sorry to hear that.” Thor replied in a morose tone. “You have my deepest sympathy. Losing family is very difficult.”

Rocket still seemed to be processing. “But we got the gauntlet. Everyone who died came back----- Gamora should have come back.” He continued to stare at Quill as if he could explain the unexplainable. Peter remembers this feeling from the night of Uncle Ben’s murder. The desperation for some small sliver of hope, no matter how outlandish the explanation. The impossibility of never seeing a face you once saw daily, and the hurt of knowing you’d never see them again. He wanted to console Rocket, but immediately got the impression that being coddled was the last of the raccoon’s wishes. 

“This was before the snap. Gamora took Thanos to Vormir. We caught him on Titan. I was too late.” Quill answered in such a soft voice, Peter strained to hear him. 

“I am Groot.” 

“I agree. We’re the goddamn Guardians, we can’t accept this!” Rocket’s voice was wavering, but his confidence was coming back in steady increments. 

“It’s death, genius. You don’t get to decide which ones are legit. Gamora is dead.”

“I am Groot.”

“Well, no we haven’t gone to Vormir. We kind of disintegrated a couple of minutes after our tango with the grape dick-head.” 

“I am Groot.”

“Really, you too?”

The Guardians were quickly losing themselves in their own conversation, going back and forth about who did and didn’t get claimed by the reckoning and what the fastest passage to Vormir was. Clearly not necessary for this part of the conversation, Peter dipped out stealthily. 

Every face that passed he searched, and while in reality it was only a few seconds, it felt like a lifetime. No one here he knew. Some people he could name by popularity alone, like to the left of the entrance was The Scarlet Witch and The Falcon, and he and Thor had just exchanged pleasantries but no one possessed the face he was looking for. 

So he strayed further from Quill & co. as an idea popped into his mind and he slipped into the thicket of the surrounding forests. He was back on Earth, with a proper signal now and whether Mr. Stark was in New York a million miles away or next door, Peter’s message should reach him as his own user now. As silly as it sounded, he still didn’t want his Spider-man secret to leak so he continued through the forest until he could hear no sound from the city. 

When he was positive he was alone, he slipped the mask on once again, and waited for Karen to boot up. It was no face-to-face reunion like he’d dreamed of, but it was a start.  
“Welcome back, Peter.” 

Peter greeted Karen back.

“You have seventeen missed messages.”

“Seven---- what? From who? When?” The screen lit up in response----and Karen was being generous. The seventeen messages were just the voice ones from today. There were over a hundred in general varying from missed calls to detailed texts and Peter felt a surge of pride shoot through his veins. Mr. Stark was looking for him! He didn’t hate him, or wish he’d never met him, but was actively still caring about Peter Parker. 

He couldn’t help but smile as he said “Karen, call-----“

But the message would never go through. 

At that very moment, Peter’s name was called from somewhere other than his mask. And without having to take it off, or ask the voice to repeat, he knew exactly who it was. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he could say he was home. 

“Mr. Stark!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first THANK YOU. I was honestly overwhelmed by the positivity, this is my first Marvel fic and i was shooketh to say the least. Second, I think I'm going to continue with the plot! I'll probably focus on a new avenger (with Iron dad & spider son in almost all of it) each chapter (like this one was Thor) but I have a vague idea of where I wanna take this. Third, this chapter took forever because I kept writing & re-writing it bc it was trash & now it's slightly less trash. I promise our favorite father/son duo will actually have established time together next chapter. But if you wanna see anything in particular PLEASE comment below, I'd love to hear your ideas!! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :) 
> 
> ALSO i saw a post about how Thor teams up with whoever he's with in every movie (The Avengers, the Revengers, The Guardians) and i just think that's beautiful, thnx for coming to my ted talk.


	3. Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello! So basically what happened, is I hated my original chapter 3, deleted it, and here is the new one! From Tony's POV although you can definitely get by in this fic without having to re-read the reunion chapter. This is just because I wanted to fix my chapter, and this is a better intro to the plot, so enjoy!

Tony Stark had survived a great many things. Things that had tried to test him, beat him, kill him even. Things that scarred him well after their expiration date, and things that would haunt him for years to come. He remembers how it felt when he was torn apart & put back together with a reactor in his chest, and he remembers how Rhodey looked as he fell from the sky like a shooting star. He remembers the air between his fingers as Pepper fell to the fire, and he remembers Peter Parker begging for his life on Titan. 

But this pain was different. It was something like jealousy infused with loneliness as he watched everyone around him a tear-stained mess as they reunited with those they loved. Friends, lovers, parents, children---- everyone had their moment of pure unadulterated bliss but him. He was sympathetic, and when people like Sam & Bucky nodded his way, he nodded back, but there was one person distinctly missing from this little reunion that felt oddly definite. What if something went wrong? What if it didn’t work for Peter, or it did and something happened as soon as he came back? If Tony had learned anything from this cruel joke God called his life it was that nothing could ever go exactly according to plan. And if Tony won the war, he would always lose a battle. Unfortunately this was one he was not willing to lose. 

What if Peter didn’t come back?

He’d already started on plans for a space ship that could make a trip to Titan like Ebony Maw’s donut could, but there were several key elements missing from the blueprints. He hadn’t exactly examined the ship when they were crash landing it all those months ago, and as every inventor ever had come to realize, there was no planning for what humans didn’t understand. How could he jump light speed, or create a cooling system for a universe he could not predict? 

Realistically he knew that if they had a chance, Peter would have to make it back to Earth and Tony must remain stagnant. Not really a Tony Stark character trait. 

As he’d done countless times before, he asked FRIDAY to run a scan for the key words ‘Peter Parker’ or ‘Spider-Man’. Dozens of titles came up, mostly circling the question “Where has Queen’s vigilante been?” or buzzfeed’s “What Superhero are you?” quizzes (Tony always got Iron Man, with the one single exception of Thor when he was drunk). There were stranger things hidden in the depths of his junk file such as ‘Spider-Man identity theories’ (that Spider-Man is actually just a StarkBot), APB circulating lists on those still lost (Peter Parker), and one titled ‘friendly neighborhood spider-man’ (click bait). 

His eyes skipped over it at first. It blended in with all the other pointless news articles and tabloid trash surrounding the vigilante but Tony Stark distinctly remembers how those words sounded in Peter’s voice. There was a high chance it was just a trick of play, a common phrase used by someone smart enough to draw the eye, but he would do anything for just a sliver of hope right now. 

“FRIDAY, play MILANOWIRELESS.” 

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath. 

“Hey Mr. Stark.” 

It felt like a gut-punch. Every pent up emotion he’d tried to drown this past year made its way to the forefront of his mind in a flurry of relief. Every sleepless night, every anxiety attack, every thought to suppress was just the night, and finally, finally, a new dawn has broken. 

Peter Parker was alive. Not only was he alive, but he didn’t blame Tony as an rational being would. He was calling Tony because he wanted to hear from him. As someone who cared about Tony outside of the suit. He didn’t care that Tony’s suit didn’t save him, or that Tony was speechless as Peter bargained for his life. In that recording, the only thing it sounded like, was love. 

He listened to it a few times, and while he wasn’t exactly enthralled to hear that Star Douche was piloting the Peter Express home, he was glad to hear that he wasn’t still on that dust ball of a planet. And currently en route to Earth. If Peter Parker could rise from the dead to meet Tony, then surely Tony could wait a day or two for their overdue reunion. 

After relaying the information to a very much alive May, Tony began the return call. Or more accurately, calls. 

 

 

Tony Stark woke up the next morning with his face squished on the StarkPhone. The last memory he recalls is of drooping eyelids and another call left unanswered until suddenly there was no more ringing. He’d tried everything----- hijacking the original signal, even if it didn’t go to Karen but the ship instead, prioritized messaging (reserved specifically for Tony Stark) that would make the mask effectively buzz like a smart phone, hell he’d even sent texts like maybe Peter just wasn’t in the mood to talk. 

When he made it to the dining hall the next morning he made a point to not be the same man he was before. Anxiety driven, insane with worry and giving no information as to why. He knew Peter was safe, and now the only thing he knew he could protect was the kid’s identity. No talking about Peter, or Tony’s unabashed excitement because of the kid, and maybe just maybe he’d survive the day of waiting. He noticed the usual suspects huddled up in deep conversation in the back right corner of the room, and made his way to join them. Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Bucky sat to one side talking animatedly, while Thor, Bruce, Sam, Wanda, and Rhodey claimed the other. Something heated had them all up in arms, but as Tony approached all conversation ended. 

“Good morning, breakfast club.” He made a point not to look at anybody too long. Natasha had a bad habit of bringing up the bags under his eyes ever since they’d met. 

“I’ve never said your name and this word in the same sentence, but Tony, you look…. Chipper this morning.” 

“Well we just saved the world didn’t we?” He could’ve sworn his phone vibrated. But when he checked his StarkWatch to no new messages, he had to remind himself to cool it. Patience is a virtue, or whatever. 

“You didn’t seem to care when we actually did it.” Steve countered. 

“Delayed reaction.” 

No one took that seriously. Instead the group just reverted to what had clearly been their previous conversation.

“So… what now? Do we go back to playing outlaw?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think the U.S. government was ‘playing’ wanted fugitive.” Rhodey joked. 

“I got a message from Ross’ secretary the other day. Public opinion’s changed thanks to our saving their asses… again. They’re rewriting the accords.” Tony seriously wondered whether or not he could get an English muffin here. He hadn’t eaten really at all since their showdown with Thanos and it only registered right now how famished he was. “you gonna finish that?” He asked Bruce as the others at the table stared dumbfounded. 

“You knew we were pardoned yesterday?” Sam was quick to fill the silence, as always. 

“You didn’t think we’d want to know?” Wanda added. Only Natasha & Steve seemed unbothered. Then again, being fugitives didn’t seem to bother them then either. 

“Wasn’t sure if that’d mess with the whole ‘outlaw’ aesthetic your boyband was going for.” Tony shrugged. “Pass the butter.” He added, effectively ending whatever scolding the Brady Bunch was gonna give him.   
Steve continued his thrilling recount of what Bucky missed in the last year, Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda discussed living arrangements, and only Rhodey remained uncharacteristically silent. He nodded his head towards the door, and being able to read a blatant sign, Tony followed him out. 

“Anything?” Rhodes asked as soon as the door swung closed behind them. They were now in some outside garden that looked like every cover of National geographic ever, but on steroids. 

Tony sighed. For a minute, he’d actually forgotten he was waiting with baited breath for that damn kid. “I got a call last night. He’s alive.” Rhodes sighed happily, and smiled earnestly for the first time in a year. “But you know kids and phones. They never pick up when you actually need them to. If I understood his rambling then he’s hitching a ride with Rocket & Groot’s crew and coming here.” 

“Did he say how long?” 

Tony shook his head. “No, the transmission cut off when he started talking about ‘Temple of Doom’, and honestly, it was for the best.” 

Rhodes nodded, but clearly his thoughts remained in other places. “You know that’s not what Ross said. Yes, the accords are being rewritten and probably more lenient but that does not mean all is forgiven. He’s still got a social bounty out for Steve. And honestly, I don't think he'll fight clean.”

He did know that. In common terms what Ross had actually said was ‘as a thanks for saving the world we’ll re-word the contract’ but effectively keep it the same. Whether or not Tony cared about what Ross said was still up for debate. Even Tony was in no way, shape, or form completely absolving Cap of his crimes. He’s got scars from their showdown he doubts will ever heal, but an Avengers compound with no Avengers in it was worse than whatever pride Tony had to swallow to keep them there. Recently Tony’s realized how fast everything can disappear in a snap. If they could forgive him for his long list of character defects, then he could bring the band back together. 

“One problem at a time Rhodes.” Tony rationed, using his right hand to pat his best friend’s shoulder. As he did the StarkWatch pinged and the small spider-logo appeared on it for the first time in a year. That meant the Iron Spider suit was back in the atmosphere, within range of satellites and obviously Earth. His heart skipped a beat, and then another, and he might have noticed if he wasn’t furiously thinking of what the hell he was going to do now. So much for remaining composed. 

“Call.” He barely got out before Friday was ringing the suit. Finally. He could not only hear Peter’s voice, but ask him all the questions that’d been plaguing his mind----such as any potential injuries or whether he ever wanted to see Tony again. He could tell Peter to stay put, or to meet him in a precise location, or perhaps to never leave his sight again----the possibilities were endless!

That is, if the call went through. Yet again, Karen notified Tony Stark that Peter Parker was unavailable. 

“That’s cold.” Rhodes noted, before returning to the dining hall. 

With two taps to his chest the suit morphed around him, the familiar hum of technology filling his ears. He kept the string of calls constant in an attempt that somehow Peter might realize he could receive them now. “FRIDAY, where’s the suit now?” 

“Breaking into the atmosphere. Currently over South Africa, but approaching alarmingly fast, sir.” 

‘Alarmingly fast’ that kid better be wearing his damn seatbelt. 

“Hey Tony.” 

Tony tried his best to not seem alarmed, and hidden behind his iron mask he feels he did an alright job. I mean, Natasha Romanov IS a professional spy. 

“Waiting on Spider-Man?” She asked, eyebrow quirked as if daring him to challenge her. 

“Actually, waiting on my cab. Must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.” DEFLECT his mind screamed to himself. How the hell did she know he still kept tabs on Spider-Man? Hadn’t she legitimately been living under a rock since Germany? 

She smiled at that. She was trained to read people for a living, and cool façade or not he’d have to admit defeat. Mentally. He’d never un-mask Peter even if it was a friend asking. 

“Hope it shows.” She responded coyly, the ends of her sentence dulled by the hum of a spaceship in the background. It was mere speculation that that was Peter’s ship. Everybody was reuniting with those they’d lost and with Wakanda’s high tech, Tony wouldn’t be surprised to find out this tricked out ship was just their public transportation, but call it desperation or curiosity, Tony gave a nod to Natasha and flew his way to the ship. 

The ship itself was rested in an open plain where a few scattered other vehicles parked. A long strip of grass connected this lot to the compound where the guests of Wakanda stayed, and surrounding either side was a thicket of trees covered by canopy tops. 

Star Lord was easily recognizable. He stood, perhaps a bit too straight-backed next to a beaming Thor that was obviously praising their handiwork in the demise of Thanos. Groot, the sentient tree, and the semi-sentient volatile Raccoon were reunited with the rest of their gang, but it was very noticeable that one squirmy teenager was missing from the picture. 

It was really shocking the things he realized he’d do if he found out that Star Lord lost his kid. 

“Iron Spider suit approximately two miles to your right, sir.” To his right? In the middle of the goddamn jungle? Jeez, this kid was dramatic, and that’s coming from Iron-Man. 

He followed Friday’s directions into the deep forest, and just when he thought he’d been following the wrong signal, there was a “Mr. Stark!” That tore his heart like paper. 

He disengaged his thrusters a little too fast, and he had to balance himself quickly before stumble-landing in front of a breathless, but very much alive Peter Parker. Maybe it was shock, but Tony could do nothing but stare. 

As usual, the kid took this opportunity to ramble. “I know, I shouldn’t have been on that ship. I didn’t mean to cause trouble, and I know you didn’t want to be stuck babysitting, and I’m just, I’m so sorry------“   
Tony released something between a sigh and a laugh that this kid was apologizing. After everything. After Tony’s suit didn’t bring him to safety, after Tony couldn’t protect the kid like he promised, after he couldn’t save him… he was still the one apologizing. The parting words on Titan replayed in his mind, and through hazy blinks he realized there were tears there. 

“Don’t.” Was all he could muster before exiting the suit. There were no words exchanged but the message was clear, and soon Tony’s arms were wrapping tight around the reason his hairs were graying. Peter Parker was alive. After just about a year of planning, and grieving, and re-planning only to get their asses handed to them by Thanos, it had all been worth it. Every drop that Tony bled, every tear he shed, every memory that felt like a knife in his heart----was worth it for this moment right now. 

“Just don’t let it happen again.” Tony joked. He thought back to New York now, and the compound and cheesy, cliché movies that Peter swore by and all he wanted now was a little slice of normal. Peter was alright, Tony was alright, and somehow miraculously they’d survived. He would’ve given everything he owned for this moment, and somehow life had given it to him instead. He didn’t deserve to have the kid love him like he did. 

"I really missed you, Mr. Stark." 

There weren't enough words in the English language to describe the all encompassing hole he'd felt before Peter's return. But there was something to be said about brevity.

"I missed you too, kid---"

“Yo, Mikey!” Someone in the forest called, sounding irritatingly like that self-named ‘Star Lord’. Tony sighed, breaking away from Peter then and seriously considering whether or not he should use his proton blaster to free the area from annoyances. 

“Mikey?” Tony asked. Was he really that thick-headed to not remember a name as simple as ‘Peter’?

“From the goonies.” Peter explained, walking forward to meet Star-Lord and ultimately messing with Tony’s shot if he choose to take it. When he’d pictured the reunion he hadn’t necessarily included this dude. It was more like express lane to New York and never doing so much as jaywalking ever again. 

“Over here!” Peter shouted to the forest.

“Hey!” Star Lord greeted when he finally emerged from the trees. He nodded towards Tony but otherwise did not pay much attention. He seemed lost in his own mind, which Tony was surprised to find he had. “Thought about my offer? I hear Vormir’s nice this time of year.”

Offer? What, did Star Lord want Peter to fix his ship? Was he in need of money? Maybe even have Peter rush his inter-galactic fraternity? And if Tony picked up anything from context clues, it’s that Vormir was a shit-hole. Nebula went into explicit detail about how it was basically like if a volcano and a desert had a baby that they threw into hell. 

Peter reacted differently, even getting that deer in the headlights look that meant Tony wasn’t supposed to know about any of this. God this kid had no poker face. 

“I uh…” He stumbled, looking back at Tony. Tony pretended to be otherwise occupied by staring at the trees to give them privacy. Enough that Peter felt independent, but not enough that Peter was out of his sight again. He really didn’t see a future where he’d ever be okay with that again. 

“I t-thought about it. But I uh, I just got back, you know?” He looked back at Tony again, his eyebrows crinkling as if some great epiphany had just appeared. “I think… I think I’m gonna stay, actually.” 

Star Lord nodded as if that was expected. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, handed him something that looked like a pager, and told him to “call if you change your mind.” Peter took it, hugged Star Lord briefly, and that was the end of that. 

Tony waited until Star Lord’s back could no longer be seen, before putting his arm around Peter’s shoulders and walking him to the plane that would get them the hell out of dodge. 

“Let’s go home, Pete.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading (again!) :-) More of Avengers + Peter to come as I officially change the description of this fic to something more plot-based. Lemme know what characters you wanna see more of!


	4. Assemble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! For those who read chapter 3 in Peters POV I completely re-did that chapter! It's now Tony's POV and while the basic plot is still the same i did use the last scene there as the first scene for 4 so I hope it's not too confusing! Hope you enjoy!

New York was slowly reviving itself. The tenants of the world took about a week to get over the initial shock of resurrection, and to realize that for as far as they could see this was a permanent settlement. The streets started crowding, the buildings filling, and of course, Peter’s homework piling. Since ‘extenuating’ circumstances had occurred, Peter and others who choose it, were allowed to take both junior & senior classes, grades permitting. Inch by inch normalcy was creeping back into everyone’s lives. Peter even found more solace in the Spidey suit than anticipated and was somehow expertly balancing his two lives. Life, for all intents & purposes, was good.

Although not all the credit was his. Both May & Tony had been playing helicopter parent since the moment Quill’s ship broke the atmosphere. Not only did he have a curfew, but his suit did too. After eleven on weekdays (and 1 on weekends) Karen would shut down all functions & alert Mr. Stark if the suit wasn’t at either the apartment or compound. Peter really only got to see MJ and Ned when they called it a ‘study group’ and in the words of Tony Stark, ‘until he graduates, field trips are absolutely out of the question.’

Another great change was Tony’s rather literal use of the term ‘intern’. Peter had never been a stranger to the R&D labs, but with Tony’s recent obsession with suit modifications it was a place he frequented more than school. It had become so commonplace for Peter to stay late at the labs that he earned himself a room in the East wing of the compound.

It was there he woke this Thursday morning. Being no foreigner to the premises after three months, he stumbled his way to the kitchen and was greeted by FRIDAY and her reminders for the day (Spanish quiz, Decathlon practice).

He returned the sentiment with a yawn, stifling it with the palm of his hand. Last night had been a tedious one. He and Tony were testing out theories for nano-tech on the Spider suit that wouldn’t interfere with the chemical composition of his webs, and only until they realized that dawn was quickly approaching did they call it a night.

He had just settled into his seat with a gourmet bowl of cereal in front of him when he heard the unmistakable click of Tony’s shoes.

“Morning kid.” He said, turning immediately to the coffee pot as if it were the elixir of life.

Peter responded through a mouth full of frosted flakes.

“You staying tonight? I think I figured out the glitch that made the last suit catch fire. Either I made it more flammable, or fire-resistant so there’s really nowhere to go but up from here.”

Peter didn’t have to be asked twice.

“Sure! I’ve got practice after school, but I’ll come by after.” He had some theories himself as to what went wrong with the last test, and was literally itching to get back to those blueprints.

Tony nodded--- pleased with the answer. He was searching & correcting something on his StarkWatch when FRIDAY came on again.

“Sir, everyone is waiting for you in the West wing conference room.”

Everyone? Tony didn’t run Stark Industries anymore, and his other interns were definitely at the Tower rather than the compound. Tony only had one other group of people that worked with him enough to constitute as an ‘everyone’ and if Peter’s hunch was right then Tony Stark was hiding something from him. He’d give him the benefit of the doubt first.

“Everyone?” He vocalized, unable to mask the betrayal in his voice.

Tony didn’t flinch when he replied with, “The Avengers.” Peter, however, felt like he had just received confirmation that Tony was cheating on him. Okay, not in that serious of a sense, but Tony Stark didn’t even have the audacity to look ashamed when he thanked FRIDAY for the reminder. Unless his eviction notice was in the mail, Peter thought himself to be an Avenger.

“I didn’t know we had a meeting today.”

“That’s because you don’t.” Tony refused to look up from his watch, and Peter knew that nothing on there could be interesting enough to overshadow this conversation. He was deflecting, circling the argument as to why Peter wasn’t invited to a meeting of a team he had been a part of months earlier. Maybe his mind was still hazy from the whole ‘dying’ thing, but he distinctly remembers Tony knighting him. He’d call up Doctor Strange if Tony wanted proof.

“But I’m an Avenger.” Peter fought.

“No, you’re not.”

“I was an Avenger on that ship!”

“Desperate times.” Tony shrugged, and Peter couldn’t help but be a little offended at that.

“So I’m off the team? For how long?”

Tony sighed, finally giving his full attention to Peter but still looking completely unremorseful about the whole ordeal.

“Look, kid, you’re still an Avenger, I can’t take that away from you. But you only go to the meetings I approve of, and you keep that mask on when talking to anybody but me or Rhodes.”

“Oh come on! That’s not an Avenger--- that’s an Avenger’s alternate.”

Tony was gracious enough to give that a moment of thought before responding.

“Huh, that is an easier way of saying it, thanks kid.” And with that he set down his mug, and departed through the South elevator as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Peter Parker. Desperate to defend his case, he shouted “I’m an Avenger!” to an already closed door, and gathered his stuff for school.

It’s not like he expected to be team captain or anything, but he had expected some title change since he went hand to hand with Thanos.

A little put out, Peter grabbed his backpack and headed for the front door. One day he’d be an Avenger.

X 

When Tony arrived at the conference room, every face turned to watch him enter. He used to love making an entrance, but more and more he’s realizing that usually entails bad news. Or maybe it’s his line of work that dictates the type of news.

“At ease.” He joked, earning an eye roll from Rhodes who sat at the front of the room. On his right was Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce. On the other side was Natasha, Clint, Scott, and Wanda. Everybody seemed interested in what called for their congregation. They hadn’t all been together in a civil setting for some two odd years now. It felt bittersweet to break that.

“Tony, why are we here?” Sam questioned. Followed promptly by Clint’s, “yeah if this is another invasion…”

Tony cut that thought off in its track.

“No, it’s----it’s about the accords. The new draft is going to congress today.” Those who fought with Cap all those years ago leaned forward. Whatever Tony said next dictated whether they lived in some off the grid safe house, or the penthouses of the compound. Only Rhodes and Bruce seemed unaffected.

“And?” Sam pressed.

“It’s in our favor, but it’s still not good. It’s operating on a kind of accountability system, so any crimes or faults the government thinks we had a part in means we’ll get a court summons and have to appear before senate.”

Nobody agreed, but nobody argued either. The threat of punishment was still looming, but the promise of freedom liberating. It was significantly less of a threat than the initial accords, and possibly even plausible.

For them only. They were the famous ones---- the ones who were praised for un-masking. Tony, from the first night he used the suit to fight told the world who was behind the mask, and others like Steve or Wanda never hid behind it to begin with. They had been subject to every article about the ineptitude of their handiwork to the lives they cost since their powers materialized. The others however…

“This means they still need a registry. Obviously, they know most of the Avengers. Almost everybody here has pissed off someone in government, personally. I could fill the hour just with names alone, I mean, Ross, Stern, one time the secretary of defense and I-----“ Rhodes shook his head and Tony got the message to quit while he was ahead. “Anyway, the point is, they want a full list. One that includes all ‘enhanced individuals.’ Even the lower level vigilantes.”

That flamed the reaction.

Scott, who was not as publicized could have probably lived his life in relative secrecy. Even Tony didn’t know ‘The Wasp’s’ name or who their benefactor is, but surely with some light searching that would all be easily attainable. “Like, have them know our private lives?” He wasn’t very good at hiding his ‘private’ life so Tony knew exactly how fast his mind went to his daughter. Tony had the same reaction when he’d first heard, the only difference being he knew he’d do whatever it took to prevent that future from being Peter’s.

To be honest, he felt trepidation about this particular subject and this group. They'd sacrificed so much---- friends, homes, comfort, everything for a new accords. Ross was finally offering an end to their witch hunt, and now it was Tony who was asking them to risk it all again. For people they didn't know from anything other than cover stories. But surely they could remember when they were the little guy. And surely they, if they could, would have kept the mask on if given a second chance. 

“Did they name anyone in particular?” Natasha added, glancing at Tony with a look that said ‘I know your secrets’. 

“Yes.” Was all he gave at first. He’d been so careful. Even when they were fighting side by side against Thanos he had kept Spider-Man’s name out of his mouth for safety. It really wouldn’t be too hard to correlate the mouthy teenage pseudo super-hero to the mouthy teenage intern Tony seemed so fond of. So he kept his public knowledge of Spider-Man at the lowest level, and he wasn’t about to betray that now. But the ink on Ross’ message had been clear. He wanted the ones who made the papers. The ones who couldn’t seem to stay out of the spot light. The ones who were exactly like Peter Parker.

He found his voice after a beat. “People like Daredevil and Deadpool. Vigilantes who make waves, who make the news and don’t have a public alter ego. And yes Ant-Man, you and the Wasp were name dropped too.”

Scott dropped his head into his hands.

“What will they do with the registry?” Bruce joined in the conversation. From years of knowing the guy, his silence could only be attributed to his linear mind trying to connect everything as accurately as he could. And surely he remembered all the files Natasha dropped some five years ago when SHIELD fell.

“All I know is it won’t be secure. First bad press they get, they’ll ‘leak’ something to divert the attention. Our secrets won’t be safe with them.”

“What about that Spider-kid from Germany?” Bucky intervened. He looked genuinely curious and vaguely concerned but even still Tony couldn’t help but feel a little miffed he dragged Peter into this.

"The one who kicked your ass?" Sam deadpanned.

Bucky looked more expressive than Tony remembers ever seeing him.

"The one who kicked _your_ ass."

Steve stepped in then, ignoring the bickering from his first & second in command. “Whatever happened to that kid? Does he know about Ross’ plans?”

Great, the wonder bros were digging Tony’s personal grave. Rhodey and Natasha shared a look between them and Tony was about two seconds away from calling the whole meeting off. Was nothing private anymore? This was not meant to be a ‘let’s stress Tony Stark out even more’ event, more so a cautionary tale for anyone with secret friends. Serves him right for trying to do something nice.

“I can get in touch.” Tony replied simply.

Rhodes was quick to divert attention. “But that’s not the issue. Unmasking these people, even just to the government could be fatal. We all know that they’re not just revealing the identity of the wearer, but of that person’s family, friends, any chance of a normal life.”

The consensus was clear by the silence in the room. Fighting this accords, again, could not go smoothly with Ross commanding the ship. If they were to publicly act against these accords again, Tony was almost certain whatever delicate balance hung between them and the US government would crumble. Possibly taking them down with it.

But Peter was too young to fight this on his own. Even if he got help from the outliers like Daredevil and Jessica Jones (not Deadpool. Never Deadpool.) they could do nothing but create a bounty over their heads, and an especially prominent one on Spider-Man’s. If Peter was unmasked, that would put May and Ned in jeopardy just for knowing the crime fighting spider and Peter, with that incredible guilt complex, would never survive that. So if the option was between Iron Man’s demise, or Peter Parker’s, the answer was simple.

“So we’re all in agreement?”

Spider-Man would have to lay low for a while. Tony would have to keep an extra special eye on Peter, and make sure to block any Ross-themed articles from popping up on Peter’s newsfeed, but it was doable. The best course of action here was to bench both sides of that teenage coin for the next few weeks to keep him out of the spotlight. Ross’ attention would divert elsewhere----to someone more prepared, and Tony wouldn’t be stressing about the kid’s livelihood every second.

They’d be fighting. For their livelihood, and their security, and everything in between but never had a quarrel felt more justified.

Everyone at the table answered unanimously.

“Alright then. Avengers… suit up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to back chapters as an apology for the mess that was chapter 3! Thank you to everyone who kept with me! The starting scene here is from the original 3 so I apologize for the repetitiveness but now officially starts the plot (well Tony's, Peter's will probs start next chapter) so lemme know what you think! I'll probably be (finally) changing the description to this fic & maybe even the title so jsut know its the same shit, different look! And as usual comment any characters/ideas you'd like to see more of :-)


	5. Queens

“Karen, what’s going on down there?”

Peter Parker was swinging off one of the skyscrapers in greater Queens when he saw the unmistakable yellow tape of a crime scene. The crowd was thick and densely populated so that Peter’s view was cut short, but anything worth capturing that many New Yorkers attention had to be a spectacle. The oddity was that Karen hadn't picked up anything... especially after he'd been swinging around for upwards of an hour looking for something

“No reported crimes.”

Peter did a double take mid-air, almost missing the light post he was going for and feeling his heart skip a couple beats at the prospect of impeding death.

“Wha---what do you mean? I see police tape right in front of me.”

“No reported crimes.”

Spider-Man stuck a landing on the side of an old brick building nestled into the corner where two alleyways connected. He was invisible to the unknowing eye here in the shadows, a perfect place to scout the scene. The police line was just a couple feet to his right, and while the bustle of people surrounding the incident made things a little harder, he could still make out a few important details. 

“Karen, I can literally see blood.”

“No reported crimes, sir.”

Peter rolled his eyes at that.

“Yeah. Okay. Say hi to Mr. Stark for me.”

“Will do, Peter.”

He shook his head and jumped down to the shadows below. Double checking he was alone, the teenager pushed down on the spider emblem on his chest to de-compress the suit. Snatching his mask off his head he mumbled “traitor” while the rest of the latex slid off him in an ungracious manner. Luckily Peter had been too lazy to even take off his school clothes before he went all superhero, so the change from Spider-Man to Peter Parker was virtually effortless.  With Karen’s allegiance in question, Peter would get more answers as himself, and with his hoodie pulled up, he joined the crowd at the east entrance.

No one had left since Spider-Man’s unknown first arrival, and he could really only see flashes of things when the taller people in front of him shuffled. Unfortunately, in his 'line of work' he was pretty good at guessing. Call him an optimist but he was really hoping someone had just dropped a whole lot of red paint.

“What happened here?” Peter asked aloud, turning to the closet person to him. Everybody was murmuring to one another, so Peter's voice didn't carry.

next to him was a man, probably late twenties with thick-rimmed glasses, and a pointed nose. His eyebrows were knit together in concern, and his discoloring was off suggesting his uneasiness with the crime before them.

He answered in a grim voice.

“Shoot-out. These people were just walking on the side walk at the wrong time.”

That hit a nerve. Peter remembers when the cops had described “wrong place, wrong time” to him, and how it did nothing to alleviate his pain. In fact, it probably made it worse. These people were apart of no bigger plan. Their death was not explained away by karma or the harbinger of justice, it was just bad luck. They had been out for a walk, or coming back from work, or hell just enjoying the day when the rest of their days ended. Their family could not use reason, or poor decision making to cope but only the horrors of unpredictable life.

How did this happen?

Specifically, how had this all occurred in broad daylight? Surely someone had to have called the stand-off in, and surely they had to respond? It's not like someone can just pull a gun and all the nosey New York pedestrians decided to handle it on their own.

“In the middle of the day? How did no one stop it?” Peter questioned. There was already one large black bag sitting idly in the ambulance. A second was still being attended to on the ground. Surrounding the scene were several people sniffling into their sleeves, and others callously snapping pictures; a troubling juxtaposition.

The guy gave him a knowing side eye.

“The police were called, but there was no way they could get here in time--- no killer waits to be caught.” The guy’s eyes were plastered to the scene ahead. He was probably a good six inches taller than Peter so he could see the whole scene. The police station _was_ pretty far from this area. He definitely can't blame the response time, but he can't praise it either.  “If you ask me, it’s those other guys to blame, anyway.”

Peter nodded along with that before registering that he didn’t know who was referenced.

“Sorry… other guys?”

Had there been more than one shooter? More than one response team, more victims? 

“Yeah. The supers. Vigilantes and shit.” He scoffed sourly at the notion.

"What?" Peter couldn't help but feel stunned. Vigilantes help people, that's the whole gimmick. That's why he chooses to sling around New York all day rather than play video games, because he's causing a difference... right? 

"You know what I mean. The vigilantes. Seems like every New York neighborhood's got their's. Ours is Spider-Man."

Peter was momentarily stunned, choosing his next words carefully. Had this dude seen him fly in?

 “I uh---- I didn’t think Spider-Man was here.”

“Yeah, exactly. When is he ever here for the real stuff? How many graffiti artists did he catch while these people bled out on the street? If he’s gonna play superhero, at least be a useful one.”

Peter’s mouth opened, but no response formed just yet. He was afraid if he spoke he would use “I” instead of “Spider-Man” or with how uneasy his stomach was feeling maybe just get sick. He didn’t know! He’d asked Karen relentlessly what was going on and nothing showed on his scanner for the past hour. Agreeably, it was his own fault for not patrolling the busy centers but even he could not be everywhere at once. Selfishly what bothered him most was the question of whether this was really public opinion.

“I-I’m sure he would’ve been here if he knew.” He countered shakily. He’d been slowly building himself back up after Thanos, but these people didn’t have time to wait for Spider-Man to grow some courage. 

The guy snorted at Peter’s comment.

“Yeah well, I’m sure that’s what he tells himself. But tell me this, when’s the last time Spider-Man, or Daredevil, or any number of those Avenger wannabes did any real heavy lifting? They stake their claim in a city, stop the kingpin, get all the gangs angry, and then step back when everything goes to shit. They're saying the dudes here were apart of whatever gang Spider-Man pissed off on that Staten Island Ferry that sunk. Pity someone else had to pay for that dude's mistakes.”

The crime scene was slowly clearing itself. The body bags removed, and now just a few loose ties to string up. People who Peter assumed were present at the time were being held back for questioning, and off to the side of the road sat two young girls with red-rimmed eyes. _He hadn't known._

“Hadn’t thought of it that way.” Peter mumbled, feeling eerily light headed. He’d blame it on exhaustion, but really it felt more like the symptoms of the flu. Stuffy head, light fever, fatigue… he really needed to lie down. His head felt fuzzy and he was moments from altogether throwing up in the middle of this crowd. He was supposed to be the good guy.

The doors to the ambulance shut with a boom that rocked Peter back to Earth. He felt weirdly surreal right now, like this was all a nightmare and he’d wake up soon enough.

But in his nightmares he was usually unmasked, or falling from a great height. It was true, he was no stranger to criticism. Being a public figure meant every bad tabloid article about how no heroes are saints, or ‘what could have been done differently’ became commonplace, but seeing the evidence of his failure, and hearing the confirmation that it was Spider-Man effectively nailing the coffin was a new experience.

“Anyway.” The dude stuffed his hands into his pockets and made a motion to leave. “Watch your back kid. Doesn’t seem like anybody else will.” He shrugged, and walked off like they had just finished chatting about what a great year the Rangers were having. Peter however, was rooted to the spot. People started filing out once there was no show to be seen, time clicked by, and it took a couple of hours before Peter could muster the courage to go home. 

 

 X

 

Peter arrived at the compound the next day, more skiddish than ever. He knew he’d told Tony that he would help last night, but after his conversation with that man outside the crime scene, he really hadn’t felt up to much. Foolishly, he’d turned to the web to see if that guy was a singularity, or a representation of the population.

There were some posts about all the good he’s done. People on that school bus he’d saved down in Bushwick, and stragglers who’d been staring down a mugger when Spidey came to save them. But for every praising article, there were several damning ones. People from that Staten Island Ferry who said they’d be dead without Iron Man’s help, and people who ranked Superhero’s on their practical ‘usefulness’ that had Spider-Man dangling at the bottom. There were infinite articles going in depth about how their talents were wasted on petty crimes, and how none of Spider-Man’s antics would be allowed if not for his Avengers backing.

It was all a bit much.

So he’d gone to bed that night with a head full of insecurities. School went by in an unremarkable blur, and finally when he could dodge the texts no more he went to see Tony.

The teenager input his pin, and the door to the lab slid open. Instead of entering immediately, Peter leaned against the frame of the door.

“Peter! Oh thank god, help me lift this will you?” Tony Stark was dressed in his typical black STARK INDUSTRIES t-shirt and old sweatpants as he lifted up a hefty barrel that Peter could only assume its use. Usually Peter would play eager puppy to help Tony out but today he was feeling excessively drained. There was too much on his mind to wok today, and if he didn’t get these questions out now he was afraid he never would. Some of the articles described Spider-Man as 'Iron Man's dead weight' and if he was causing nothing but problems to the one person whose opinion he valued most in this world, he wasn't sure what he would do. 

“Pete? Could use a little Spider strength.” He sounded strained, and Peter’s hazy thoughts almost clicked back into reality before his mouth blurted out what his brain couldn’t filter.

 “Are you only nice to me because you don’t think I can handle this on my own?” It came out in a rush, and like one insecure, run-on word but he’d said it nonetheless and had no other role but to stand his ground now. He may not have liked how he said it, but it was out there for the world to see now.

Tony, his eyes wide with shock and confusion gently set down whatever pipe he was messing with, and continued to stare at Peter as if he had just told him he was actually growing six more legs like an arachnid.  

“ _Excuse me?_ ” If he was reading the scene right, Tony even seemed a little ticked. Rational Peter would’ve back tracked now, not wanting to upset the man on his day off, but this new, post-crime scene Peter didn’t seem to care. He pushed farther.

“All of this----“ He motioned to the labs and everything surrounding them, “the internship, the labs, you being so nice to me… is this all because you don’t trust me? Because you think I’ll fail if you don’t?”

He's not sure what answer he wants, but he knows he wants the truth. 

“Please don’t lie to me.” Peter added hastily as a disclaimer.

The billionaire looked like he was about to ask for a hearing aid with how stumped he came to be. Peter wouldn’t repeat himself again, it was embarrassing enough the first time. Either he got his answer now, or he would bottle it up forever.

“Kid…” Tony started, wiping his greasy hands with a towel and throwing it unceremoniously onto the table. He walked towards Peter slowly, as if stepping into a trap. Against all odds Peter was actually quite afraid of his response. What if, since he’d been found out, Peter’s role was done? What if Tony got upset about how ungrateful Peter was being and it was goodbye compound and newfound life? There was an endless string of possibilities as to why Peter could be kicked to the curb, and only his fear kept him rooted to the spot.

Tony responded after a beat.

“Believe me, you could never make as many mistakes as I did when I was your age. And then some twenty odd years after, too.”

That wasn’t an answer. Past mistakes don’t mean you don’t want to fix people who could follow your footsteps. Maybe Peter was just the ‘what if’ experiment Tony had been dying to test out.

Clearly Tony could tell Peter wasn’t buying it. He took the last few steps to cover the distance between them, and his hands found their way to either side of Peter’s arms. While he didn’t necessarily want to be coddled right now, he would take it if Tony just answered the question directly. His pointed look gave Tony the ‘go on’ signal.

“No. Okay? There are a lot of things in my life that I would fix, or maybe even change if I could, but you are not one of them. I ask you to hang around here because for whatever reason, I like having you here. You’ve got a good brain, and most importantly a good heart.”

OK… if this was a lie then it was a damn good one. Tony’s eyes shone with nothing but a steely reserve. 

Tony shrugged, signaling an afterthought. “When it’s not wrapped up in these conspiracy theories.”

Peter rolled his eyes at that, but remained silent. He believed him. Call it a character flaw, but he earnestly believed Tony would tell him nothing but the truth. This may not solve all his questions about how good Spider-Man was at his job, but it at least answered the one he’d feared the most. Whether Tony cared about him out of love or pity. 

His silence only paved way for Tony to continue.

“Look, if I wanted a fuck-up, I’d be mentoring Deadpool, okay?” Peter couldn’t help but laugh at that, cutting the tension with a hot knife. Tony and his personal vendetta against the vigilante never ceased to pique his interest. 

Tony smiled at peter's laugh before adding, “Now does that answer your question?”

“Yes.” Peter answered bluntly. Adding a “thank you” when he thought of it. He’d been feeling so anxious about this very exchange that now that it was out there, he felt exhausted. Tony’s hands left his arms and Peter turned to leave. On his way out, Tony’s voice followed.

“Hey.” Peter stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his mentor. “What do you say tonight, we forget the labs and call it a movie night? Your choice.”

Peter smiled. Peter had read countless articles about how Tony Stark's only heart was his arc reactor, and if they were so wrong about that they maybe they were wrong about Peter too. He'd have to believe in himself, even if it was unpopular. 

Peter nodded, said “sounds great” and with that they parted ways.

He had the full intention of at least getting some homework done tonight. It was a Friday, so technically he could slack off as much as he wished until Sunday but he’d still made a mental note to do something. However as soon as he found his bed, he flopped down into it and his eyes closed peacefully. He would do better. For that random guys’ sake, and Tony’s, and hell the whole city, he would do better.

But first, Spider-Man needed an upgrade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a light dabble of angst for your chapter 5... hope you're enjoying it despite poor Peter being dragged through the ringer. More to come soon, will way more of Avengers & co. As usual, lemme know who you want to see interact w Peter & I'll be sure to throw it in!


	6. heard round the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually do chapter summaries but this one is significantly darker & where the angst (& peters plot) really starts so pls be aware there's a pretty hefty fight scene in this chap. Small TW without giving away too much, don't read past the X if a gun/knife fight aint your thing! But the first half of this chapter is Peter meeting another Avenger so that balances out... right? I don't have a beta so if anything is off here pls let me know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^^^ read the chapter summary if ur uncomfy with violence!

Peter Parker was not a morning person. And not in the cute, I wake up at ten a.m. a little groggy, but fine after I’ve had my coffee kind of person. More like the kind who snoozes their alarm until heaven itself descends upon Earth to pull Peter from the comfort of his bed. And even then, he might press snooze again.

So he finds himself incredibly late on this Tuesday morning. With super speed, it’s not hard to make up lost time, but also not great when he realizes not only is his shirt inside out, but his shoes are on the wrong feet.

By the end of an impossibly long five minutes, he’s set for the day (his hairs not combed, and he’s wearing yesterday’s outfit but who cares, its high school). He only has a minute to spare so he grabs an apple on his way to the elevator, repeatedly pressing on the down button and knowing full well that does nothing to increase the speed. If anything it probably just aggravates FRIDAY.

“Mr. Parker, It is my recommend-----“

The elevator opens, and Peter speaks through a mouth full of ‘breakfast’

“Sorry Fri, I’ve got to go!”

The doors close and Peter uses his reflection in the doors to fix the mop on his head he calls hair. It looks like if he just got off the world’s fastest roller coaster while simultaneously getting a perm. Horrendous. He tries to flatten it, and stubbornly it just bounces back to its former glory.

Like a parquet, he’s too focused with his own reflection to realize when the elevator reaches the ground floor.

The doors slide open and Peter is still leaning in, the images of either side of his face separated by short red hair and an iconic face.

Natasha freaking Romanov.

Immediately his mind runs in a million different directions planning his next step. He could run. But no doubt that Black Widow would catch him. He could lie, again, the Black Widow would catch him. Or he could do nothing, with his mouth hanging open and voiceless words forming.

Apparently he choose the last one.

She didn’t seem upset or shocked that some teenager was using Tony’s private lift, but more so like he’d just given her the missing puzzle piece she needed. She smiled, and not politely like a normal first introduction would go, but like he was playing directly into her hand.

“I uh…” Peter started. He knows staring is wrong, but this is the first time he’s seen her in person since Germany. And the first time ever without his mask. Tony had explicitly said not to interact with anyone aside from Rhodes, and he’d positively kill him now for both being late, and being late enough to run into an Avenger.

Lie it is.

“I was just… dropping some files off for….”

“No.” She cut him off mid-sentence. There was no anger or spite in her response, but it was clear that whatever lie Peter decided on would not suffice unless he said the words ‘hey I’m Tony’s illegitimate adopt-a-super, Spider-Man.’ And yet if he said that, surely FRIDAY would plan out a lovely headstone.

“I’m his intern, so I…”

“No.”

“I was selling Boy Scout cookies and…”

“No.”

“Stealing?”

“Nope.”

Peter finally shut his mouth and just nodded. He was so screwed.

“I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker.” He stumbled, extending a hand that she shook in return.

“Natasha.”

“I know.”

She smiled again, but this time as if Peter had said he was seven years old and wanted to recite the alphabet for her. Now that he thinks about it, maybe wearing a mask around the Avengers wasn’t Tony’s worst idea. He knows he looks young but jeez, if even Natasha Romanov---- who at the age of like eight was kicking more ass than Jackie Chan in Rush Hour----- thought he was young then maybe he’d never grow out of his baby face. The mask added a few years. 

She focused up after a few seconds passed. “Is Tony upstairs?”

“Y-yeah. Labs. Third door on the right.”

She nodded as a thanks, and made a motion to move past him that reminded Peter he was still, and more so now than ever, late for school.

“Pleasure meeting you, Peter Parker.” She added before the doors could close and Peter was yet again left standing alone with only his reflection. When he was sure she could not see him he let himself feel all the emotions that had been bubbling under his skin at first introduction. He’d just met the Black freaking Widow! Internationally acclaimed for being the best spy in the game, and according to Happy, one adept enough to even fool Mr. Stark at some point.

He left the compound in more of a hurry than usual, but not enough to break a sweat. Tardy slip or not, today was a great day.

 

X

 

A week went by where little to nothing occurred. Peter aced his Trig test, finished his physics project, and even led the high score on the Decathlon practice rounds. He came home at a reasonable hour, helped Aunt May with chores and lived as any normal teenager might.

The only anomaly being he’d still slip on the mask from time to time. But either Karen’s scanner was broken or being overridden, because every night regardless of the time, she would report to him that no major crimes had been called in. He would sometimes swing around town, but honestly his morale for things on the superhero side was a bit low. The break proved a viable reason to take a bit of a hiatus. Tony was in D.C. for some political thing, and would be back on Friday, meaning Peter could retire the suit until they could solve whatever wiring was on the fritz.

It was Thursday, and after Peter had finished tutoring a sophomore with his Chemistry homework he was walking home the long way to Queens. He was doing better since the events of last week. He’d decided to take an indefinite break from the cold shoulder of the internet, and Tony had even approved Spider-Man to take a seat at the next Avengers meeting (mask tightly on, voice modifier for every exchange). It just still kind of bothered him that he had no real refutation for the claims presented online. I mean, he had defeated the Vulture but obviously that was not something he could release to the general public. And he was still a teenager with a home and school to tend to so he really did have to juggle a lot, but if he really thinks about it, he hadn’t been doing any death defying stuff lately. Tony and May would no doubt commend him for that, but for Peter it just felt a lot like cheating.

The Avengers never took days off from saving the world, so why should Peter?

Regardless, he was playing bystander now. Listening to music and enjoying the nice March weather as any other NYC resident might.

He was just crossing the intersection between 10th and Griffins when he felt it. The hairs on his arms stood up and slight ringing in his ears confirmed that danger lurked here.

Quickly he slipped into the shadows of a side street dumpster, crouching low to avoid any possible wandering eyes. The ringing was only getting louder by the second, morphing into a dull headache by the time his mask sat properly on his head.

“Hello Peter.” Karen greeted.

"Karen. Anything on the scanner?" He asked. Flying usually gave him some clarity of mind, but this spidey sense thing was really killing the rush. 

"No reported crimes."

"No reported crimes, yeah, I know." He repeated. As he stuck the landing on some dingy Queens top terrace he could he the scuffle below. He crawled to the edge to get a better look. 

"D-don't fuck with me. I'll do it, I'll shoot!" There were two guys below in the alleyway. One was somewhere in his thirties, with a heavy green camo over his shoulders, and a gun between his hands that was shaking like mad. "You killed them. It's time to pay up." 

THe other dude was the outlier. In a situation such as below it stands to reason that: guy with gun= power and guy empty handed= scared. But somehow the power dynamics had completely shifted and this one... a young teenage face and buzz cut short blonde hair was smirking like this was his favorite game. "You gonna shoot me, Reg? You know what I think?" He took six steps forward. The barrel of the gun now rested directly between his chest. "I don't think you have the guts." 

"Karen, can you stop updating?" The screen in his mask was constantly blocking his view below, and everytime he wanted to shoot his web something would pop up and block his line of sight. At this rate he'd be better with the hoodies and goggles he'd had when he was first bit. 

"All systems down. I recommend not engaging, the police have been notified." 

But they'll never get here in time. Peter wasn't sure if that was his voice or the dude from the other day's in his mind but it sounded the same regardless. He was right, they'd never make it. While 'Reg' was still sweating through his beanie, buzz cut had taken a knife from his back pocket. The distance between them significantly smaller than when Peter first arrived. 

He made his move not a second too late. Camo shot the gun, but not before Peter's web had wrapped around it, effectively encasing the bullet mid shot. With another move, he tied down buzz cut's right hand, the one wrapped around the knife and landed in the spot formed by both of the men jumping back in surprise. 

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" Buzz cut asked, looking at his webbed hand like Peter had chopped it off. 

Seriously? Did the spider emblem do nothing for his image. 

"Come on, dude! I'm Spider-M---" Apparently Camo had taken this moment to charge, aiming for Peter's face with a nasty right hook. He ducked just in time, the whiff of air going over his head to remind him he was going a bit slow. Peter took the moment to attack back, aiming for some way of restraining this man. He was confused, or angry, or shocked, or some horrible mixture of the three but he was so haphazard about his attacks that Peter had no way of predicting them. 

The guy landed a punch to Peter's right side, but that presented enough opportunity for Peter to web his face. While he struggled with that, Peter tried to nail down his hands, but with all the flailing his shots only stuck to the grimy alleyway wall instead. With a roar of frustration the guy had torn most of Peter's web off, and when Peter backtracked to get a better shot, the dude took the opportunity to kick Peter right in the sternum. Being part spider he heals fast, but _Jesus._

"You should mind your own business." The dude said. He took three distinct steps forward towards Peter. Karen notified Spider-Man that his right web shooter was shattered from the fall and while he calculated how the hell he was going to stop a dude 3 times his height and weight, several things happened at once. 

First, Camo wound up the punch. He was going for the eye, or the mouth, or just anywhere on the face that would leave Peter feeling the sting for days. That would have been true had he not tried to fire his faulty shooter anyway, and the tangled wattery mess of 'web' hit Camo directly in his eyes. This resulted in the second event, catching the dude by surprise, and suspending the use of his hands. And third, and this is where things start to get hazy in the memory of Peter Parker, a gun goes off. 

The rest all happens in slow motion.

Camo screams. And not like they do in the movies, it's blood curling and haunting. Peter has mere seconds to catch a glimpse of the look in his eyes as he processes what pain he's feeling, and it's something that'll stick with Peter Parker forever. Camo falls with a sickening speed and despite knowing there was no way to reverse time he's begging for it to stop. His lips, his teeth, his torso, there's blood everywhere where there was once nothing.

And standing above Camo's now crumbled form is the third party member Peter had all but ignored until now. His eyes are dark and merciless, and he holds the gun now like he's debating with himself whether or not to leave a witness. 

Peter says a silent prayer.

In that split second, the sound of sirens makes the call. Buzz cut drops the gun where he once stood and runs like hell in the opposite direction. Down the alley, the police run onto the scene now, yelling things about 'man down' and 'needing the EMTs.' It all sounds muffled in his ears anyway. He can only hear the dude---- _Reg_ 's sunken calls for the pain to stop.

Peter is trying desperately, and perhaps without hope to keep pressure on the wound that is now making it hard for Reg to breathe. When the police finally make it to them, it's to rip apart of the embrace. And although Peter tries to follow wherever they're taking that man, a cop whose face he'll never remember stops him in his tracks. 

"I think you've done enough." He says, before pushing Spider-Man off the scene. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter's plot starts here, and then grows into something a lot bigger (& eventually happier) I promise. Lemme know what you think :-)


	7. In accordance

“Jesus Christ Tony, I knew the kid was young, but not still going through puberty.”

Tony Stark was literally up to his elbows in old software. Scattered remains of bots past their date, and suits destroyed by whatever war they were in at the time were thrown about haphazardly like some AI graveyard. He was trying to reboot an old system, but when the wiring stopped obeying his commands he’d found it pretty cathartic to just damn it all to hell. He was even pretty destressed before Agent In Your Business showed up.

He didn’t look up as he answered. “Who, the receptionist? I’m pretty sure that dude is like 25, just a late bloomer.” If she was talking about who he thinks shes talking about, he’s gonna have his vocal cords surgically removed. Or maybe have the kid’s ears taken off. He won’t listen to him, so what’s the goddamn difference?

“You know who.” She responded. She’d come to the table, and fiddled with one of his old canon blasters. It was fried around the edges, and if memory serves him well then it was when he first met Thor that killed that. A simpler time.

“Yeah? What else did he tell you?” He tried to seem as uninterested as possible as he tightened one of the bolts on an old crane.

“His name’s Peter.”

Tony couldn’t help his reaction. He dropped the drill bit onto the table with a clash and muttered “this fucking kid.” Two rules. He had two rules if Peter was going to stay at the compound. One: Don’t talk to any Avengers. Especially ones he met in Germany who could recognize his voice. And two: Don’t tell anybody your name. Lie, if you have to. Say you’re the goddamn delivery kid if it comes to it, but a name is the most powerful thing you can hide. A face can be forgotten, but making an impression sticks.

“Did he give you his street address too? Mother’s maiden name? First pet? Or is he saving that for when he undoubtedly invites you to his B-day bash?” 

Natasha tsk’ed at that. “Don’t be so hard on him, he’s a good kid.”

“With a big mouth.”

“Remember when you didn’t play by the rules? Back when you weren’t so…”

He gave her a look that said ‘tread carefully’.

“---tightly wound?” She finished with a smirk.

“Well maybe I’d unwind if everything----“ he pulled at a cord that was stuck inside one of the old prototypes for his thrusters, “stopped-----trying----to-----kill-----me.” With the ‘me’ he got it out, breathing like mad and having broken a light sweat but holding the frayed cord like a trophy. “See what happens when things go my way?”

Something sparked in the background and Tony heard the whoosh of a light fire. Knowing his bots were all fully equipped with a fire extinguisher he didn’t even bother looking back.

“So what’s the recent thing that’s tried to kill you?” She found the one seat not over run by wiring and prototypes and sat comfortably.

“You just met him.”

Natasha actually laughed at that. He’d have to save that in his memories for the next time she tries to kill or incapacitate him. Maybe it’s like a get out of jail free card.

He took a moment to change his answer. “The summit is tomorrow. Ross and his back up dancers won’t quit on the vigilante act. He’ll offer up something good, he always does.” And this time he’s not so sure about the outcome. Last time he was playing with fire, he knew all that happened was he would get burned. This time he’s playing with an A-bomb.

“You know you weren’t on the popular side last time. I think they’ll back you up.” Natasha argued.

Tony’s not so sure. Everybody betrays him eventually. Obadiah, Steve, his dad. Even Natasha, who was sitting here as if Germany never happened, saw the chance to change teams and took it. Eventually there’s something too good to pass up. Eventually the benefit outweighs the cost.

Last time the accords were about Barnes. Last time it was personal for everybody, but especially Steve and his crew. Clint had a family, Wanda had a grudge, Sam had an allegiance, last time everybody was fighting for someone. This time, Tony was asking them to fight because he said so. Sure Scott was a factor, but he wasn’t exactly the motivator.   

“And if they don’t? Do I put on the mask and tell everyone I’m the Spider-Kid? Do I start a war that will inevitably come back to bite him in the ass? Do I lock the kid in the tallest tower, highest room?”

“Couldn’t he just---“ Natasha made a horizontal ‘rock on’ motion with her hand, “fly out?” She let that sit for a second and then shook her head as if physically reminding herself to stay on topic. “Anyway, Have a little faith, Stark. We’ve got your back.”

“Yeah well, I’m a lot of things, but an optimist is not one.”

“Then play narcissist, I don’t care. But you’re really going to sit here and tell me that whatever the outcome is, you’ll take it sitting down? We always find an out, this is no different.”  

Tony gave her a polite smile as if he agreed and nodded a goodbye as she left. Maybe if Tony was new to the game he’d believe her. Maybe if they were the Avengers who beat Ultron, he’d believe her. Hell, maybe even a year ago he could believe her. But right now, he seemed to lack the faith.

He’d have to do damage control on his own.

 

 

 X

 

 

 

 

“I was halfway to New York when my pilot disappeared. Mid intercom notice about the rough skies, his skin started disintegrating and the co-pilot followed soon after. One by one, ten of the best men and women in service just… died. Right in front of me. Couldn’t explain it if I tried. Luckily on a plane filled with marines, army, and air force the half of us that were still left could control the plane enough to land. The world changed that day. And it hasn’t been back since.”

For just an average dick head, Thaddeus Ross was pretty good at monologue-ing like a super villain. Tony suspects he thinks anecdotes make him seem more personable. Agreeable, in the right light even. What he doesn’t realize is that Tony comes closer and closer to developing a human mute button with every syllable.  

“The world thanks you for your sacrifice.”

If you look closely, you can almost see where Ross has to swallow his own venom with those words.

No one believes them either. Tony sits at the seat to the right of the head, with a clear view of all those in attendance. For a roll call, he’s actually pretty impressed with the line up. Everybody but Thor and Scott showed up, and that was to be expected. Thor was somewhere creating a new empire and Scott had asked Tony to tell Ross that Ant-Man had ‘run off to the microscope in the sky.’

They had all showed up, even Rogers and his fraternity. And whether that was a good sign, or the nail in the inevitable coffin, had yet to be determined.

“Was that all this meeting was about? Because that could’ve been a phone call.” Captain America----- or just Captain now questioned.  Obviously he was in no mood for another Ross tangent.

Thaddeus matched the enthusiasm. “Captain.” He started patronizingly. “I am offering you the chance to operate on the side of the law again. You and your outlaws will no longer be on our most wanted lists if you cooperate.”

“And if we don’t?” Wanda spoke up. She definitely wasn’t using her magic but there was something haunting dancing in her eyes.

“How about we focus on cooperating first?”

Tony was unaware, but unsurprised that Ross’ use of ‘cooperation’ was loosely translated to ‘throwing everyone else under the bus.’ He had previous intel.

“The accords no longer suit the world. The revision however, is extremely pertinent. This contract would simply state a level of accountability. Say if one were to destroy greater New York while test driving an unlicensed invention.” Ross leveled his eyes with Tony. Any other day, Tony probably would’ve been too exhausted to care, but with all this pent up rage inside him, he was all too happy to release it.

“And who was accountable for that nuke that fired at New York when the Chitari invaded?” The government seemed to have selective memory when it came to accountability. Funny how that works. Tony distinctly remembers saving their asses.

“Those commanders were fired and reprimanded to the full extent of the law. And only because we knew who they were. These others, these vigilantes, they operate with absolutely no oversight, no restrictions, and no blame. We are not asking you to imprison them, we are asking for your help in cooperation. Do the crime, pay the time---- no one is above that. The list of enhanced beings will remain confidential, only myself and a handful of others will even have access to it. We are offering you limitless freedom, but at some point the debt has to be repayed.”

Repayed? Repayed like when Tony died disposing of that nuke? Or repayed like when the Avengers literally brought half the population back to life? As much as he’d like to offer, there was legitimately nothing left to give. Nothing more he could sacrifice. Ross’ ‘limitless freedom’ was the burden of fighting a war at every turn.

Clint responded before Tony could blow up. “And you can promise that those files will stay confidential? How?”

“The U.S. government is better at keeping secrets than you give us credit for.”

“And yet you want us to expose ours?” Natasha retorted.

Realizing he was losing the crowd, Ross nodded towards one of the guards by the light switch and as the room dimmed a large projected screen drew the eyes attention. “I did not throw the first stone, Agent Romanov.”

The first thing to appear was a news article. “Fan of Daredevil falls to his death attempting to stop a robbery.” It reads. The picture was… explicit. Even for Tony who spent a good week with the contents of his chest on a tray next to him, his stomach churned uncomfortably. Ross clicks a button and the headline fades into another. “Bystander hit in Jessica Jones fight.” This time a video with no audio plays, and someone with superhero strength picks up an empty car and throws it at Jones. Instinctually, she ducks, and the one woman who had gone outside to record the scene could not run fast enough from collision. Nearly everyone looks away or closes their eyes before impact. Ross clicks again and another clip plays, this one of Deadpool shamelessly, in broad daylight & execution style, killing a man outside of some mutant school. It was later reported that the man he killed had a plethora of child abuse cases against him but still. There was no judge or jury. There were however, witnesses. And its easy to place the blame on the one holding the bloody knife.

Ross takes the moment to intervene. “Our police and military officers go through intense training. For petty thefts, all the way up to homeland security threats. They have the credentials to justify intervening. These ‘vigilantes’ don’t know how to properly subdue a crowd, or to talk someone down from the ledge. They have no training, and no accountability. That’s where you come in. The Avengers can play the role of big brother, police yourselves--- I don’t care. But someone needs to answer for the things these masks have done.” Ross let that simmer, leaning over the table to watch each Avenger individually.

This is what Tony had feared. He was making sense. He was speaking to all the Avengers natural instinct to play god---to help the little guy. He was giving them the false choice between saving people or damning them, and if Tony didn’t have a high stakes card in this game maybe he would’ve even baited too. Natasha and Rhodey shared a look, and from his peripheral he could see them both staring intently at Tony as if asking what their next move was. Wanda and Sam had shared some whisper, and even infamous assassin Bucky Barnes looked conflicted. They couldn’t fight amongst themselves, not again. Tony wouldn’t survive it.

“yeah, You might wanna check the expiration date on that, Lieutenant. All of those headlines are from B.T.: before Thanos. In case you haven’t noticed, the B-listers have been laying low.” Tony broke the silence with fake confidence executed fearlessly. He’d known about the Deadpool and Jessica Jones thing, he’d read about them last year. The Daredevil thing, based on context clues was also outdated as Tony Stark had personally paid visits to the vigilantes to explain what was going to go down. Tony was going to play diplomat, get the government off their asses, and then they could go back to spandex and superiority complexes. Give him a month, maybe less, but most importantly lay low.

Every now and then Tony’s known to have a good idea.

“Excellent point, Mr. Stark. You want relevant? This was live just an hour ago.” He pointed at the screen again, where a mid-thirties man was speaking diligently into the microphone. The feed started midsentence.

“-------where just moments ago Reginald Dioux was shot, and later killed. The gunman was seen by several witnesses, although has yet to have been identified. Shot from the back, it is assumed that Dioux was preoccupied not by something, but rather someone, resulting in his untimely death. Another person on the scene was Queen’s very own Spider-Man, who is now a possible suspect, and accessory to this murder. Danny Gomez, Channel 8.”

It’s the right arm that goes numb in a heart attack. Or maybe it’s the left. Hell, maybe it’s both, because right now Tony’s entire form is frozen in shock. No other sound exists but the pounding in his chest and while his vision works, it’s not focused. _Peter_. It’s all he can think. Not what he can do to fix it, or to help, or even to remain calm, it’s just the one word over and over: _peter_.

“Accessory to the murder.” The reporter had accused. Peter already has an incredible guilt complex, and by the time Tony reaches New York--- or even his cell phone, surely it will have wholly consumed him.

He had planned for this. He re-wired Karen to turn off the scanners, he told Ned to go crazy on the movie marathons, he’d told Peter to have free reign in the labs. He’d planned to keep Peter off the damn streets, and the week he’s gone is the one Spider-Man decides to return. Tony’s not home, and May works nights Thursday’s and somewhere in Queens there’s a teenage kid wondering how he became such a ‘monster.’ Tony knows from personal experience that’s not a thought you ever come back from.

“Shall I continue?” Ross asked rhetorically.

Regardless, seeing the reaction on Tony’s face Rhodes all but shouted “no.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew it was Banner silently asking if he was alright. Bruce didn’t know--- couldn’t know about Peter, he wasn’t even in Germany. But Bruce does know the signs of anxiety, especially in a Molotov cocktail of repression like Tony, and the gesture is meant well.

Tony brushed it off when he sat forward. Peter’s only chance now was Tony’s ability to keep his cool so he mentally reserved a time slot to melt down later----- but right now, he needed to win.

“We don’t know who Spider-Man is. We don’t know who any of the vigilantes are, there’s no match.com for us. We can’t give you want you want.”

Ross looked at Tony with a dead stare. He then moved his eyes across the table to where Steve sat, addressing him directly. “We? Does that speak for you as well, Rogers?” Steve’s jaw set.

“I can offer you immunity. Barnes will be free to go where he wants, without fear for detainment or worse. When was the last time you could say that?” He turned to Bucky now, whose stoic face gave nothing to the reader besides a slightly pursued lip. He was thinking about it.

“Colonel Rhodes, you are no longer in active duty, but I can give you so much more. Your own squadron, or task force or whatever grouping of soldiers you need to ‘make the world a better place’. Barton, your family can move from whatever back country farm they’re hiding in and into a house where you come home to the comfort of them every night. I am offering you all the best chance you’ll have at being free. Don’t follow a blind man.”

“Offensive.” Tony quipped. His heart was beating faster and faster with every passing second. This wasn’t going to work. Spider-Man had caused too many problems for Cap & co. for his safety to be a bargaining chip, they would take the deal and go. Spider-Man would become the newest ‘WANTED’ poster and Peter Parker would blame himself for years to come, falling down the rabbit hole of insecurity.

Yet again, Tony would lose. Only this time he was losing everything.

“We politely decline your offer, sir.” Tony did a childish double take of Captain Righteous. Bucky’s life was no longer the accords bargain, and yet still… Steve was standing with him? What was even more flooring was that no one corrected Cap’s claim.  

“Captain the media needs a pawn. I’d think very carefully about who you choose to play it.” Ross’ mustache twitched with anger.

“Is that a threat?”

“It can be.”

Steve stood then, causing all the guards that manned the doors to jump in surprise. He gave one spare look at Ross before storming out through the double doors. Bucky and Sam followed his lead, shortly continued by Wanda, Clint, Banner, Rhodey, and Natasha.

Ross watched them file out with a face remarkably stoic. There was something to be said about a man who can hide his crazy so well.

“You have a week Mr. Stark. I won’t ask again.”

“Great.” He said simply, not sparring a glance before exiting. The Quin-jet was probably ten minutes out from their location, and the Avengers likely waiting for him, but something vitally more important was hours away in Queens.

Tony double tapped his reactor, engaged the thrusters and tried to break the sound barrier as he set out to find Peter Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last few chapters have been confusing as hell i apologize sm so if ur still here for chapter 7 then u a real one and i thank u. I will be fixing up the chapters this week so 8 will probably take a lil bit, but no major plot points will be changed. Just wanna clean up some things from 5 & 6\. Also this is where the tag 'Tony needs a drink' comes into play bc honestly my mans needs some REST


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